


Locked Door

by ShirTheCat



Category: Original Work
Genre: Drabble, Gen, Horror, POV Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-23
Updated: 2014-07-23
Packaged: 2018-02-10 03:21:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2009034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShirTheCat/pseuds/ShirTheCat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A short story of the almost-empty room.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Locked Door

**Author's Note:**

> There's used a part of Mc Hammer' s song 'U Can't Touch This', though I own nothing!

Well, it's not like I'm trying to argue or fight back or anything like that. No, it's more like a... subject to change. My computer's all broken and rather dirty and it can't talk to me anymore- eh... to anyone actually. It stopped and now it's dark, empty and silent here. No computer - no 'net - no-one to talk to. And no light too. Nooo-ooone.

I'm not alone. Or lonely. Of cause not. I've already explained everything to my little mechanical friends and, sure as hell, something'll work out soon. Yeah well, soon enough for me to die from an extremely excruciating Hunger. The computer stopped - all technological devices stopped. Great, eh?

It's getting colder. And I want to pee. And not only that but to eat a large bowl of a nice hot soup! With meat, chicken, potatoes, spices and carrots. And eggs maybe. And a couple or two of cookies. And a... pizza! With lots of hot, melt and so magnificently stretchy cheese! And a few tomatoes. And a mug of coffee. And tea. And milk. Oh my.

Music hits me SO HARD  
Makes me say OH MY LORD  
THANK YOU for blessing me  
With a mind to rhyme and two hype feet

Or something like that. It's boring here. If only my room had windows~~ But no, I was too psychic and my- eh... mum? dad? untie Doodiediepee?.. whatever. So, at that time I was too uncontrollable and they locked me in here with all these equipment. Though the room was someone's lab, very important and expensive. It seems to me that they couldn't think about a better place. Quite strange.

My father was a genius. He constructed that awesome TV-tuner in the Central Parking Lot, he called it 'zoombox'. Though nowadays it's known as a 'zombie-box'. Because everyone who watched it became zombies. Even our little fluffy puppy Crisis. Dad was so sad, so sad... that I couldn't stop myself from taking chopsticks and chopping him to death. Well, who knew that this sort of thing would happen? So clumsy of you, daaad.

My mother... well, let's say that she was an artist. She liked drawing huge dark-red paintings and then selling them to strange suspicious persons. She wasn't intelligent or beautiful or creative. She was just an artist, neither the best, nor the worst. One day when her favorite paint was gone (it had a salty and metallic taste, yuck), she cornered me, broke my left arm, slitted it from shoulder to wrist with scissors and smiled softly: "Wait a little, honey, Mom will praise you later". Afterwards she gave me a huge pink cake with strawberries and cherries. She loved me.

My little bro' Ferry was eaten alive just two weeks before me being locked up. He was cute. His smile was cute. His blind eyes were cute. His thighs and fingers were cute. He was a living cuteness. I remember that one of his birthday presents was a long, thick, red dildo with a carving 'from Mom with love'. How cute.

Ugh, s-so c-cold-d. I can even imagine me sitting in a big white refrigerator... uh no, freezer. Cooold. Whiiite. Freezer. Though how come I'll know it's color? OK, then like this: cooold, daaark, snooowy freezer. Eh, way better.

Oh well, if it's not over still then I don't even know what to do. If there IS anything to do, I must say. Because, you know, sometimes the world is against you and no-one, even your Mom, will help you. Oh yeah, I'm saying... eh, thinking actually all of these as I've been through it myself. I AM through it for now. Or something like that.

I wonder if I could unlock this goddamn door.

Guess, there's always a try.


End file.
